


The Woman of Mordor: Into Darkness

by elainel96



Series: The Woman of Mordor [1]
Category: Lord of the, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Dark Character, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 02:59:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4288197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elainel96/pseuds/elainel96
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[10th walker. Follows the plot of The Fellowship of the Ring.] I have been running for three thousand years. I was supposed die. The Darkness is tearing at me, ripping my mind apart. I cannot run anymore; it's time to fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Uncomfortable Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Updated: Aug 7, 2015

A man threw bread into my cell. It hit the floor with an audible clunk and skittered across the damp stone towards me. I picked it up with a sigh; it was rock hard. I thought I would be able to seduce my way out of the dungeons, but the men seemed prepared for that sort of conduct this time. It usually took no longer than a day.

The darkness was growing stronger. There were strong urges; they happened in pulses lasting minutes at a time.

 A man clanged on the bars. “Are you ready to confess and be punished?” They never failed to visit

“Yes,” I feigned a weak voice and stood feebly. I would not be punished. The penance for my crimes was far too severe for my liking. I leaned against the bars and stroked the hilt of the blade hidden by my breast. The pompous, devout man looked satisfied. He believed himself to be a servant of the Creator, yet his hands were covered in the blood of prisoners.

“Tell me your offenses.”

“Killing a man. A good man.” I wrapped my hand around the hilt.

His eyes widened. “You are making an admission to murder along with your crimes of temptation?”

“I have not committed them yet, my lord.” He stared at me stupidly. “But I am imagining how I would do it now,” I whispered innocently. I smirked, grabbed his cloak, and slammed him against the bars, holding my dagger to his neck. “Open the doors and you will not be the man I kill.”

He pulled his keys out with a strangled groan and twisted the lock open. I kept my knife at him as I stepped past the door. I pushed him towards the cell next to mine. The man I was attending to before I was arrested was sitting inside.

“Open it,” I commanded.

He unlocked it shakily. The man stood with apprehension, staring at me warily.

“Thank you, my lord.” I smiled maliciously. I snatched his keys and swiped my blade fluidly across his throat. Blood poured down his cloak. I pushed him back, being careful not to touch the blood. I took the knife and plunged it into my own thigh, forcing a blood-curdling scream out of my own throat and attracting the other guards. I then ripped it out and threw it into the man’s cell.

“He killed him!” I screamed as they neared us. I clutched at the wound with a painful groan.

Predictably, the guards shouted and invaded the man’s cell. They would take their time; they would want him to suffer. A younger guard, one I had not seen before, turned me towards him. I fixed my face from slight entertainment back to feigned horror before he looked at me.

“Did he attack you?” he asked.

I nodded whimpering.

“I will take you to fix that wound.” He led me to the steps. “How did a beautiful woman find herself in the dungeons?”

“Unfortunate place at an unfortunate time,” I said as we stepped into the daylight.

The darkness grew stronger. It was the stronger than it had ever been in the thousands of years after the war. I groaned as a wave of dark impulses ran over me. The cold began at my heart and trickled to the tips of my fingers and down to my feet. Then, the cold seized and replaced itself with scorching rage. I resisted the urge to grab the man’s knife and plunge it in his throat. Instead, I punched him in the face, knocking him out and sending him rolling down the steps back down into the dungeon.

I ducked my head and walked towards the upper levels. It was not high. The more decadent citizens tended to reside in the lower levels. I walked into the alley that led to the black door. I knocked twice in a row, waited a beat, and knocked five more times, pausing between the last two. The door opened. A scraggy, old man by the name of Orgron stood behind it.

“Where have you been?” he asked in a low whisper, growing louder after the door shut.

“The dungeons again,” I replied, “they are beginning to learn my face.”

I pushed past him and made my way to my room. Girls sat throughout the main area; it was close to nightfall; they were readying for their shifts. Few shady men walked past me and exited the house; they were special clients. I was a special dealer, so I obtained my own room.

I opened drawers and found my darkest clothes. I ripped my night clothes off and put on my best riding gear. I knew where I had to go. There were whisperings of the rising power in the east, but I was never certain it became a real threat until now. I knew He was still alive. I returned to the person I was before the war, and I knew I would not until He was dead.

The girl I shared a room with, Elfwyn, stared at me curiously. I took my knives and my bow from their hidden place in a drawer and handed them to her. “I need you to stand ready on the main road with these.”

“I do not understand,” she whispered.

“You will,” I said. “Just do this for me, please.”

“Anything,” she replied. She believed we became good friends, but I felt nothing towards her.

I nodded. “Thank you.” I brushed through my hair and braided two strands down the side, exposing the tip of my ears.

She gaped at me.  “You are an–”

“Shh,” I interrupted her and pulled on a cloak that covered my ears when I pulled the hood over my head.

The old man walked into my room. “There have been reports of the Nine passing. It is probably just the words of crazy men, but all your work should be done inside the city.”

I nearly dropped the pack in my hands. “The Nine?” I asked. The rise of the darkness became clear. He nodded. “I am leaving.”

“ _Leaving?_ ” he sneered. “You still owe me for the space I have given you.” He grabbed my arm as I walked past.

I pulled my arm easily from his weak grip. Men may have found him strong; but I was not a man. I pushed him to the side and carried my pack out of the house, looking back at the dark door one last time.

I rushed up the levels towards the stables. I kept my hood up. The inhabitants carried on their normal days, but I felt them pass: the Nazgûl. I felt them, even with the long distance they kept from the city. I had not sensed their darkness in ages, but I knew it.

I made it to the sixth level and neared the stable doors when they flung open. Boromir, the steward’s son, looked down at me with a sneer. “I thought you were detained.”

“I confessed my sins,” I said. I ran a finger down the rough fabric covering his chest. “I need to borrow a horse.”

“I do not accept your kind of payment,” he said. “Try my men. They have only just returned from a long journey, and I am sure they would be happy to find a horse for you.”

I slipped into the closed doors of the stables. Boromir’s men looked up at me. I leaned against the wall seductively. “May I please borrow a horse, my lord?”

A blond man with a pinched face spoke first, “As if I would lend a horse to a common whore.” The other men laughed along with him.

“Not even if I paid for it?” I lifted my shirt up and pulled down the front of my trousers. “I assure my payment would be satisfactory.”

“This is the lewd behavior that got you punished.” A dark-haired, prudish man spoke. I recognized him as one of the men that detained me.

“They call me the wild woman for a reason,” I answered.

A dark-haired man with dark eyes stepped forward. “I’ll let her use my horse.” His eyes dragged up and down my body.

“You will never get that horse back.” Another man laughed.

“He’s getting old and weak. I had the stableman train another horse for me.” He replied.

“Do what you wish, but I am completing my work,” the man concerned about the willing man’s horse said.

The willing man pushed me against the wall. The others left the stables with a grumble, all but the working man. A dark desire came over my body; for a moment, I believed it was the desire for the man standing before me, but it grew stronger. I did not want him; I wanted to cut his throat. As the urge passed I realized the man’s lips were on my neck, and my hand was on the hidden knife in the fabric covering my breast.

“There is no time,” I answered. I pulled my knife and held it at his throat. “Give me your fastest horse.”

He glared at me, sputtering with anger, his pants around his ankles. “I will have men chase you down.”

“I am not a common whore, you imbecile.” I pushed back my hair, revealing the point of my ear. “I am six thousand years old. I could best ten of your greatest men. The only reason you managed to put me in that dungeon was because you had twenty men. I only count two in this room.”

He attempted to grab the knife from my hand. “That was a mistake.” I sighed, using his own weight to force my knife into the side of his neck, right below the jaw. Blood spurted across my jacket. “That is disgusting,” I sighed, pushing him away and inspecting the blood on my dark shirt. It was not noticeable.

The other man picked up his sword and lunged at me as I did this. I slipped out of the aim of his blade. It lodged in the wooden wall of the stable. I punched him as he attempted to pull it out of the wall. He fell to the ground whimpering.

“I will make it quick,” I said straddling his waist.

“They will chase you down,” he seethed. His eyes burned with rage and hatred.

I plunged my knife into the same spot in his neck. Blood pumped out around the silver. “I am counting on it.”

I pulled the blade out after I was far enough away from the blood splatter. I threw open the stable doors and pulled my hood back over my head to disguise myself. I found the largest horse in the stables. He was a fierce, black stallion; he did not shy away from me with the blood on my hands. I took his reins and jumped onto his back. I galloped out of the stables, attracting the attention of the other men.

I made it down two levels before they noticed the bodies. I wound around two more times until I saw the golden hair of Elfwyn glimmering in the setting sun. She looked at me in shock, but held up the weapons as I curved around to her. My hood fell, revealing my white hair and the points of my ears. I was unmistakably an elf to these people now. I took the bow and quill from her hands and threw them over my shoulders.

I made it down two more levels before they got the word to shut the gates. The doors skimmed the stallion’s tail as we passed through the tiny crack and made it out to the open lands. The doors opened just as quickly, letting out nearly forty men, one on every horse in the stable.

I pushed the stallion to a gallop, yet careful not to lose the men chasing me. The Nine would not chase me with so many men on my tail. They chased me for hours; none even came close to catching me. They turned back when the moon was centered in the sky; the men were nearly as tired as the horses. I did not feel the urge again, but I was always watchful.

*          *          *

The stallion was tireless. I only stopped for a few hours in the brightest of daytime. I was too easily spotted on the bronze terrain. It was only my last day of riding when I was caught.

An orc pack caught me on the open plain. The hid themselves behind boulders and shot at my horse as I rode by. The giant stallion nearly crushed me. Instead, as he fell to the side, he pinned a leg to the ground. I struggled to pull myself out as the yelling of orcs neared. I finally slipped my leg loose as the shadow of an orc fell over me. I managed to shoot an arrow in his direction before I sprinted. Black arrows fell around me, lodging in the dirt.

I ran for miles. My entire body ached, the soles of my boots wore out and my clothes began ripping apart; all I could do now was make it into the forests and hope that Thranduil's guard would protect me. I had run around the forest, toward the northeast side, where the guards would most likely be stationed.

“She's heading into the forest!” One of the orcs grunted.

“Stop her! The Master needs her!” Their leader commanded.

I cursed silently. I ran into the brush, the branches cut at my legs and tangled around my ankles, slowing me down. I ran harder, hoping a guard would see me, or hear the loud grunts of the orcs behind me. I took a sharp turn, hoping to lose them in the trees. A small ledge made of rocks was near, I jumped off it and hid behind a tree nearby. I heaved myself up the tree and onto a strong branch and leaned against the trunk, attempting to disguise myself in the leaves and branches.

“Find her!” The leader commanded.

He was near me, standing upon the ledge I had just jumped from, searching the trees. He was an Uruk-hai, larger in stature and stronger than his companions, but wearing no armor, and only possessing a bow. _They are breeding orcs. They are preparing for a war._

It was likely that this was just a small orc pack that was making their journey east, but unluckily enough for me I had been recognized by their Master's descriptions. I drew an arrow from my quiver and placed it on my bow, aiming it directly at his forehead.

 _This is for my horse._ He saw me then, his eyes catching my silver hair peaking from the branches. He let out a growl, cut short as I fired, his body fell forward off the ledge and onto a rock with a thunk. I silently cursed, hearing the footsteps of the other orcs running towards the scene. I jumped from the branch, plummeted through the sticky cobwebs, and landed on the ground in a crouch.

“There she is!” A small, lanky orc yelled. He was malnourished and possessed no weapons. I fired an arrow through his eye, killing him with ease.

I drew my dual long knives as the other two jumped over the ledge, running towards me. They were both Uruk-hai, armed with swords. The first orc raised his sword, he lowered it upon me and I blocked him with the knife in my left hand, stabbing him in his gut with the other. I immediately jerked my sword from his body and he fell to the ground clutching his wound. As I turned to face the other orc an arrow flew past my ear and into his forehead. I dropped my knives and drew my bow, facing the new threat.

“Lower your weapon, human. You are surrounded.” A blonde elf stood before me, his bow drawn. Though, my bow was pointed directly at him as well.

“Human?” I scoffed, pulling the arrow back further at the insult.

At the time it was almost impossible to tell that I was an elf, my hair was ratty, sticking out in random directions and covering the tips of my ears. Blood and dirt from past orc attacks covered my pale skin and my clothes. My dark green cloak was ripping in places and my shirt that was once a cream color was now brown and red. The belt of my pants was breaking and it barely held them up anymore. My light blue eyes were red from the little sleep I had gotten from constantly running from orcs.

“I'm no human.” I was surrounded by at least twenty elves, perched in the trees and upon rocks, all pointing their bows at me.

“ _Istodh peded edhellen?_ ” (do you speak elvish) he stared at me apprehensively.

I furrowed my brows. The Silvan dialect was more difficult to understand than most. “Yes,” I answered simply, wishing to speak in Westron rather than decipher the odd speech of Silvan elves. “Men don’t fight like I do,” I assured him.

“Drop your bow,” he commanded.

“You first.”

“Do not be reckless.” He glanced back at my quiver. “You only have one arrow; you will not win this fight.”

“I could have shot you then. It is not wise to take your eyes off your opponent.” I smirked. “I was willing to fight ten orcs at once, do you really believe I fear you?”

“Tauriel, are the other orcs dead?” the elf asked.

A female guard answered him, “ _Uma_ , _tolto yrch_.” (Yes, eight orcs.)

“Eleven orcs,” I corrected myself with a smirk. “I killed two others, and you killed one – even though I had him.”

His eyes narrowed at me. “If you kill me, the others will slaughter you.”

“Then Thranduil would have the others lashed.” I responded. “Besides, I’m sure I could get through a few of them before they got me.”

“He would be grateful to those who killed his son’s murderer,” he snapped. “How do you suppose to know the king?”

“You could say we’re old friends. You said that you’re Thranduil’s heir? I chose the right guardsman to hold hostage, then.” I smirked.

“What is the meaning of ‘old friends’?” he asked. “I would hardly call this a hostage situation.”

“It depends on which one of us you ask.” I deterred. “Look at us; if this isn’t a hostage situation, then what would you call it?” Out of the corner of my eye I saw that some of the elves had lowered their bows, obviously not sure if they were dealing with something dangerous or ridiculous.

“ _Ama lle cu_ ,” he commanded. (raise your weapons)

I smirked. On the left side of me I saw the female guard aiming carefully at me – no, slightly in front of me. “Even if – Tauriel, I presume? – shoots my bow out of my hand as she is planning, I’ll take you down before you shoot me. I haven’t had a good fight in a while.”

“It would hardly be a fight.” He scoffed. “I’ve been trained by the finest fighters in Middle-Earth.”

“And I was trained by my brother, it does not make a difference. Do you fight like your mother? You look like her.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” He snapped.

“No.” I laughed. To that day, I wouldn’t have dared face his mother in battle. “I will drop my bow, if you drop yours.”

He dropped his bow; I dropped mine.

“Search her.” He motioned at the others. “You bring orcs with you. Why were they following you?” The elf asked, dropping his bow. I stared at him, recognizing his blonde hair, donning two braids at his temples, running behind his ears. He had familiar light blue-gray eyes and a strong jaw, accompanied by his defined cheekbones.

“For a meal,” I lied.

A guard grabbed my hands and tied them behind my back. Other guards confiscated my long knives and my bow. I grimaced, I felt extremely vulnerable being so weaponless. Only the dagger hidden in my jacket gave me comfort. They ushered me forward onto a brick path which led to the kingdom.

I strolled with them leisurely – I could tell it irritated the prince for me to be so casual. I was finally able to study the woods that I had once seen long ago. The trees that were once so bright and beautiful were now dark; cobwebs stretched from branch to branch, allowing little light to touch the forest floor.

“You are not from these parts. Who are you? What is your business here?” He asked, moving us along.

“My name is Rhava; I am from Lindon. The number of orcs in these parts are growing and I was seeking shelter in the Elvenking’s Halls. I would like to see your father.” I stated.

“My father doesn't see just anybody.” He looked at me curiously.

“I'm not just anybody.” I answered dryly.

“He has ordered that any wanderers in the woods be taken to the dungeons. No exceptions.”

“You're no fun.” I laughed, smiling at him boldly. He glared at me and roughly grabbed my arm, yanking me further down the path.

“The days are growing darker,” he stated.

So, even Thranduil, cooped up in his kingdom, has noticed the darkness rising.

We were nearing the palace; I could see the great white arches that surrounded the entrance. Above the arches were carvings of vines in the stone. Though the forest was in darkness, it did not affect the beauty of the palace. I’d only been in this forest once – long ago before darkness had fallen over the Greenwood.

The great, white, arched stone doors of the palace opened in front of us, the guards stationed at the entrance stood attentively, waiting for orders from their prince.

“Close the doors.” He ordered as we passed inside.

“This way,” he grabbed my arm. He led me over paths surrounded by moss covered rocks. Large stone pillars were scattered through the palace, the bottoms of which were carved to look like the trunks of trees. Actual trees also grew in the palace, creating arches over paths. Streams ran under the paths and around the trees, making small waterfalls in scattered places and creating a constant sound of running water. Warm light flooded in from arch-like windows and lanterns hung from the ceiling over the raised paths. It was more beautiful than I imagined. I could understand Thranduil’s love for the woodland elves.

The prince departed, passing me off to another guard who escorted me to the dungeons. He shoved me in the cell roughly and left me to rot. It was not all unpleasant – I’d been in worse dungeons. The dungeons of Minas Tirith? Horrendous.

I took the dagger from my jacket and tossed it in my hand impatiently, waiting for Thranduil to find out I was here. Otherwise, I’d have to escape and find him myself – and that sounded like quite a lot of work.

“I found her killing an orc pack in the forest; she says she wishes to see you.” The prince’s voice drifted through the halls.

He reached the doors first and glared at the dagger in my hand.

“I am the King of the Woodland Realm, many people wish to see me. I have told you, any strange wanderers in our forest must be put into the dungeons; we cannot afford to allow spies past our borders. I do not wish to see anyone right now.” Thranduil said, though his voice was nearing my cell. His voice was like the low tones of a woodwind instrument – but distant and cold.

“If you want it so bad, here,” I handed him the dagger. “Oh, you do not wish to see anybody at all, Thranduil? I am insulted.” I yelled loudly as his footsteps neared my cell.

“Who would dar-” his words were cut short as he looked into my cell.

“It's been a long time, Thranduil.” I smiled audaciously.

“You’re dead,” he whispered. His stern face had fallen to shock. His eyes were older and wiser than last I saw him – also colder.

“I get that quite a lot these days,” I said, stalling him from further questions. “Would you mind getting your son to let me out of here?”

“Legolas!” he looked at his son with scorn that would freeze a man.

I stood and leaned against the bars. Thranduil’s hair nearly fell down to his waist now – though it was straight as a board, as usual. He stared at me with wide eyes – no speaking, only staring.

Legolas squeezed between his father and the door to unlock it. As the door opened, Thranduil stepped through the gap and grasped my face between his hands, studying every detail to assure that I was me. I nearly thought he would kiss me until I felt the cold, golden ring on his right index finger touching my face – and his son staring at us. He instead laid a gentle kiss on my forehead and wrapped his arms around my shoulders in a tight embrace.

“What happened?” he whispered in my ear. “Why didn’t you tell me you were alive?”

“I think you know why,” I whispered, glancing at his son, who was staring at us as if his father would burst into flames for being this close to another woman. “You saw what happened in the Battle of Dagorlad.”

“We will speak later,” he whispered. He shuddered slightly and parted from me with a faked smile. “You’re filthy.”

“You always knew how to make me swoon.”

He looked to his son with an apologetic smile. “Legolas, this is Lady Rhava of Lindon.”

Legolas’s eyes widened at ‘lady’ and he bowed low with a hand over his heart, “My apologies, I did not know.”

I raised my eyebrows at the Silvan version of my name and turned to Legolas. “Don’t wound yourself.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so much editing to do idek where to start


	2. Revelations

After infinite awkward apologies traded between Thranduil, his heir and I, I had finally found myself in the bath houses. The stone baths were built naturally – as with all other aspects of Thranduil’s palace – from hot springs. Each bath was separated by natural foliage, one could only see through if they tried, and there was no worry of that in Elvish kingdoms.

I peeled off my dirty clothes and threw them to the side. Blood and dirt had seeped through and stained my skin. I slid into the steaming waters with a groan. Every muscle in my body ached, they had for years. I used the soaps to scrub every inch of my body; they’d even supplied me with soaps to clean my hair – no wonder Thranduil’s had grown so long.

When my body had fully relaxed and grown pruny from the water, my hair was nearly dry. I pulled on a white dress that the servants had dropped off – they’d taken my other clothes and it was unlikely that I would see them again – and brushed through my tangled hair.

A servant led me to a dining hall after my hair had been properly braided and polished. Thranduil and Legolas, who were already seated, stood as I entered. I sat in the chair opposite Legolas, next to Thranduil, who was sitting in a larger, throne-like seat at the end of the table.

“If you had visited our forest looking like this, I doubt Legolas would have met you with such hostility,” Thranduil complimented.

“I would have been treated as helpless and pathetic,” I rebutted.

“I doubt Legolas would have treated you in such a way,” he laughed, glancing at his son, who was studying me closely.

He had changed from battle clothes into a long, gray robe. He even donned a silver circlet. He no longer seemed so much like his father – his presence was more amiable, and his eyes warmer. When his father mentioned his name a second time, he tore his eyes away from me and looked at him in surprise. Thranduil gave him a scolding look.

The servants set out the wine – to my great pleasure – and gave us small foods to snack on, which I wolfed down. It had been days since I’d eaten anything besides nuts and berries.

“How long has it been, Thranduil?” I asked.

“More than three thousand years,” he answered as he kept a scornful stare on his son.

“Have you been to Lindon?” I asked casually.

He ripped his stare away from Legolas and looked at me curiously. “No, I have not. There were many painful memories that I did not wish to face,” he answered. “It seems now, that those need not be painful. Have you not been back?”

“No, too many painful memories,” I answered bitterly.

He cringed. It seems he’d forgotten about my brother.

“You saw what happened to me. We saw each other.” I changed the topic.

He took a quick drink of his wine. “I do not know what I saw that day.” He twirled the glass in small circles, “But, I have spoken with Lord Elrond about it at length, he has superior knowledge about such things,” he spoke calmly, but there was a flash of fear in his eyes. He was becoming more unconcerned by the second. I would not have been able to get him to confess everything here.

“I do not have the time or protection to travel to Imladris. There is something rising in the East. I believe you know of what I speak.”

He shuddered and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes,” he whispered quietly. “Legolas is travelling to Imladris in three days’ time.”

“Why?” I stared at his son for answers.

“He goes to deliver news. Mithrandir left a prisoner in our care – and he escaped.” Thranduil answered.

“Who?” I watched him suspiciously. I had spoken to Mithrandir not long ago, near Minas Tirith.

“A creature called Gollum,” he answered gravely.

I grabbed the knife from my empty plate and gouged it forcefully into the wood table. “YOU LET GOLLUM GET AWAY?”

Steel hummed as the guards positioned at the doors unsheathed their swords; fear flashed across Thranduil’s face. I laughed caustically and sat back down in my chair. 

He knew. He would not tell me.

I knew. I did not want it to be true.

“I am calm,” I said to the guards. “You can lower your weapons.”

“I will speak with you when I am certain you will not lose your temper.”

I drank from my wine. “That is fair.”

We sat in silence for the rest of the meal. Legolas politely, yet reluctantly led me back to my room when we finished eating.

“Where does your father spend his nights? I have more matters to discuss with him.”

“He would prefer for you to speak with him in the morning,” he responded.

“Elves do not sleep.”

“True, but they do grow tired when they rule a kingdom.”

“Legolas, I believe you have gotten a good enough impression of me to understand that I will find out where he sleeps whether you tell me or not.”

“I have, but I would also like to get an impression of your resourcefulness, considering I will be riding with you in a few days’ time.” He smiled and turned to me when we reached my room. “Goodnight, Rhava.”

I sat around, waiting for a servant to arrive so I could question them. Eventually, a meek elf arrived and asked me if I needed her service. I clutched a piece of parchment in my hands. “I need to speak with the king, I have received important news over the escaped prisoner.”

“I can take the news to him,” she responded nervously.

“There’s no time!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, my lady.” She bowed. “I’ll take you to him.”

She led me down the hall a short way – about three doors down from my own – and knocked nervously. “Lady Rhava has some important news for you.”

Thranduil sighed so loud it was audible through the thick door. “No, she doesn’t. Let her in anyways.”

The servant opened the door shaking. I stepped into his room and threw the blank parchment to him. The door clicked shut behind us. He poured a glass of red wine. “Could you lock the door? The servants are relentless.”

I dropped the wooden bar in place. Thranduil turned to me, he wore his night robes to cover himself. “Now we’re modest?”

His face turned pink. “How long has it been, Rávawendë?”

“I am not sure. The years have passed in a blur.” I took the wine from his hands. “Just over three thousand years since the Battle of Dagorlad, if I am not mistaken. What do they call the plains there now, the Dead Marshes?”

“Yes,” he said. He took a sip of his wine. “You are supposed to be dead.”

“I know,” I whispered. “I want you to tell me how I am alive.”

“I don’t understand it myself. You must speak with Lord Elrond.”

“I can’t, It will be there. I know it in my heart; I have seen it in my dreams. The part of me that is still pure tells me I must stay away from It.”

“How can you distinguish the good from the evil, Rávawendë?” He looked away from me. “You must know what you are fighting if you have any hope of fighting it.”

“I am barely holding on to the good, Thranduil. I cannot be in another war. It will take it all away from me.” A sob shook my body. “I have to hold on to it, Thranduil.”

He embraced me. “I know that they will not make it without you, Rávawendë. You know the enemy. You have fought him before.”

“So have you. So has Elrond.”

“You commanded an army after your brother died, Rávawendë.”

“For barely an hour.” I mumbled into his chest. “Then Elrond commanded them in my stead, and you commanded your father’s forces when he died.”

“Elrond and I have kingdoms to rule.” He kissed the top of my head. “Why did you not find me afterwards?”

“I could see your love for her. You had a life with her. You had a child.”

“It was going to be you. You were my betrothed.” He brushed through my hair with his fingers.

“It never would have been me. We were apart for over two thousand years. We thought we could make it, but we never could have. She was there when I could not be.” I pulled away from him and took the hand that held his wedding ring. “I know I must go, to fix my own mistakes if nothing else. If He is finally gone, then perhaps the darkness will leave me.”


	3. The Journey Has Just Begun

We spent the next three days preparing for our journey. I used up most of my time in the training areas, avoiding both Thranduil and Legolas. I refused to face their fear of me, Legolas did not even know why his father feared me, but I could see the trepidation it in his eyes when he faced me.

It was the morning that we were to begin our journey. I had dressed myself in the travelling clothes that were given to me: a shirt, jacket, boots and trousers. The jacket had armor inside the fabric, covering my heart. It was fully buttoned up to the center of my chest where it flared out into a v collar. New thick, black leather boots replaced my old, worn out ones, and I happily wore my new tight fitting brown trousers. Thranduil had given me a quiver that held my knives and arrows.

“My lady,” a young servant whispered timidly, “it is almost time to go.”

I nodded, throwing my bag over my shoulder along with my quiver and sheathing my long knives. I followed the servant down the halls and through the main doors of the palace.

I rifled through the bag of supplies that the servants had given me, finding two outfits for traveling and dark blue dress.

“Are you ready?” I jumped a little and turned to face the voice, Legolas had walked up behind me quietly, followed by two large elves. He noticed my gaze and turned to them. “This is Thalion,” he said gesturing to the large blonde ellon, “and Arthion.” He gestured to the ellon with brown hair.

“We will be assisting you on your journey to Rivendell.” Thalion said, smiling at me. He was a strong, large ellon, his blonde hair emphasized his dark blue eyes. He had a strong jaw line and a long, broad nose. His appearance was intimidating.

I looked to Arthion next, his features were gentler than his companion's. His brown hair fell across his shoulders and back, his green eyes looked at me nervously, uncomfortable under my gaze. His nose was thinner and his jaw was less broad.

“We are guards of Prince Legolas,” he said quietly. His eyebrows were arched inquisitively – no, fearfully. Thranduil had obviously spoken to them of me. His companion seemed to not have any fear of me, or perhaps he was just reckless.

“Rhava, it’s time to go.” Legolas said, tearing my gaze from the frightened ellon. He was crossing the bridge over the river, heading towards the stables. I followed him after giving one last look to the ellon. If he was going to be scared of me, why not terrify him?

When we arrived at the stables servants were waiting on us with three horses. Legolas immediately walked up to the white horse and loaded the saddlebags. Thalion and Arthion claimed their horses as well.

“Are you coming?” Legolas turned to me after he’d loaded his saddlebags. “My father said that you do not deal well with animals,” he said, seeing my confusion.

“I am insulted,” I gaped at Legolas.

“Do you wish to have your own horse?” he moved towards the stables.

“No, it is true, but I am still insulted.” I said as I threw my pack into one of the saddlebags.

The only horse I’d had in the past thousand years was killed by the orcs that drove me into Mirkwood. She was fearless. Most animals were frightened by me.

“We will make for the Old Forest Road, we must head southeast and travel along the eastern side of the forest until we reach the path.” Legolas announced to us. I mounted the horse behind Legolas and wrapped my arms around his waist.

He led us away from the Halls of the Elvenking, and onto our path to Rivendell.

*          *          *

We traveled for 15 days; up until that night our journey was safe, only facing scattered spider attacks. The real threat did not lie in the Mirkwood forests, but outside of them. The trip had been mostly silent, though I had made friends with Thalion; Arthion still feared me and spoke mostly to Legolas, who was still avoiding me despite our close quarters and the fact that we had to share a horse.

“We will have to camp here for the night,” Legolas said while he dismounted from the horse. We were near the pass over the Great River, in the shadow of the Misty Mountains. We set up camp under the cover of the trees surrounding the river.

Once I had eaten dinner, I left, walking down to the river for privacy. I laid underneath the stars next to the water, watching the cold light of the moon reflected on the water flowing over rocks and wood, and listening to the sound of a distant waterfall.

“Hello.”

I looked up, Thalion stood over me. “How can I help you?” I smiled, turning to watch the river once again.

“I could not bear it over there. Neither one of them speak.”

I laughed. “You have noticed it as well?”

“Why are they scared of you?” I wanted to find peace outside of the others’ presence, but instead Thalion decided to question me. “I hope you don't mind my asking, but they're constantly saying how I should try not to anger you?”

“I tend to have trouble controlling my anger,” I said truthfully. “I don't even remember what I did to make them scared of me.” I still stared at the stars, refusing to look Thalion in the eye.

I shot up, hearing a quiet rustle in the bushes. I pulled an arrow from my quiver and placed it upon my bow towards the sound. Legolas stood there, his arms up slightly in surrender. “I just came to say that you should return to camp, there could be orcs about these parts.”

I nodded and returned my arrow to my quiver. It crossed my mind that he had possibly heard every word that was said, but I chose to ignore it. When we returned, Arthion was standing attentively, staring into the darkness.

“What's wrong?” Legolas asked him, reaching for an arrow.

“I heard footsteps,” he whispered, not moving from the spot. I raised my hood to hide my bright hair, the mark that every orc in Mordor was looking for.

“Put out the fire,” I commanded in a whisper. Thalion poured a bucket of water on the flames, my eyes adjusted and I could finally see in the darkness. I made out the shape of figure standing amongst the trees in the distance. More appeared, they were looking this way, at least twenty of them. “Orcs,” I whispered, “A lot of them.”

“I don't see anything,” Legolas whispered. Just as he said this, they began running; they were in a sprint straight in our direction. He gasped, hearing the quiet footsteps in the distance.

“They're coming,” I placed an arrow on my bow and shot in their direction, a loud grunt came from the orc I shot. Their footsteps were no longer quiet; they screamed their battle cries “We're outnumbered,” I yelled, firing more arrows with Legolas, taking at least five down before they reached us. They were to close for arrows now. I drew my knives, smirking as they came within distance.

“Get the girl!” An orc commanded.

The first came within distance of me, several others close behind it, and a great distance behind them a huge horde of orc followed. Before I could block the blow an arrow went through his temple.

“I had that!” I yelled at Legolas, he laughed at me, unsheathing his sword for the oncoming orc. I quickly shot an arrow through the eye of his enemy before his sword could reach it.

“He was mine!” Legolas yelled while blocking the blows of the next orc. I laughed loudly as I picked up my knives and replaced my bow on my back.

The mass of orcs had reached us; there was no more time for games. I twirled my knives in my hand, grinning as and orc came upon me. He held a huge ax in his hands, as he attempted to bring it down upon my head I swiped my long knife across the top of his shoulders, beheading him. I felt a surge of energy through my body as I stuck my knives in the guts of two orcs facing me. My movements became instinct and I was scarcely aware of what I was doing. I could only feel power and pure anger.

Pain began radiating through me. It was centered in my left arm. I looked into the eyes of the last orc as I stuck my knife in his gut and smiled at him. The pain became more real as I came down from my high. I suddenly felt exhausted, as if I had gone days without sleep. My legs gave out and I could feel myself falling. Someone caught me.

“Rhava?” I looked over the shoulder of the person that caught me, towards the one who said my name. Thalion and Arthion were staring at me; horror covered their faces.

“What?” I whispered. I looked at the source of pain, there was a deep cut in my left shoulder. I gasped.

“We need to get that bandaged,” Legolas gently laid me on the forest floor.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked Thalion.

“You were like a beast,” he whispered. “You're eyes – they were on fire.” He looked at me with the same fear that Arthion did every day.

I looked up at Legolas for an explanation.

“She was just fighting,” he said as he was wrapping bandages around my arm, “Have you never seen a good warrior before?”

I silently thanked him, but I could see the confusion and fear deep in his eyes.

“We should move on, I'm sure there are more orcs behind these.” He helped me to my feet.


	4. Imladris

Once we had passed through the Misty Mountains our journey went smoothly, though the trip had become even more excruciatingly quiet than before. Thalion spoke to me rarely now, he treated me as Arthion did and kept me at a cold distance.

We were now near the end of our tortuously long journey, only one day away from Rivendell. We had camped near the edge of the Misty Mountains in a small cave near the base. We ate dry food to keep ourselves hidden, a fire would only attract unwanted company.

I was stationed at the mouth of the cave, keeping watch for the next couple hours. I sat with my knees tucked under my chin and my hood up, trying to keep warm. Thoughts were running through my mind rapidly, all I had been able to think about for the past weeks was the incident with the orcs. Rustling of someone sitting up from their bed mat tore me from the thoughts, the person walked towards my station.

“Hello, Legolas,” I sighed as the person neared.

“How did you know it was me?” He asked quietly. He sat cross-legged next to me.

“The others are scared of me,” I said, never looking away from the forest.

“You were quite terrifying in battle,” he laughed, “but I think they're being a bit dramatic. You're not frightening,” he smirked at me.

“Oh, is that so?” I turned to him, “Well you fight like a child.”

“I could best you in battle easily.” He frowned at me now.

I laughed, “It is so easy to tease you.” He frowned again and turned away from me, looking out into the woods in front of us. As we eased into the silence, I felt it: an impending darkness; but not only that, I felt an urge to go towards it – to be closer to it. “Legolas,” I whispered. “There's something out there. It's getting closer.”

“What are you talking about, I don't hear any-” His sentence was cut short by heavy hooves stomping through the forest. “Get in the cave,” he whispered, he stood quietly and offered me his hand. I stood slowly while staring in the direction of the noise. As the hooves got louder I felt more allured, my mind was in a haze and the feeling of desire overwhelmed my senses. “Rhava!” Legolas's voice snapped me out of my haze. I turned to him, and realizing the danger that we could be facing, I shoved him towards the cover of the cave.

Both Thalion and Arthion were awake and hiding in the darkest corner. We joined them, Legolas pushed me in first and stood in front of me, my back was pressed against Arthion's chest. I could feel his heartbeat quicken as I pressed up against him.

“Don't get too excited.” I whispered up at him teasingly. He stared down at me with fright in his eyes. Repulsion covered his face, he was always the most cowardly out of our group. He had been scared of me since the beginning and the incident with the orcs only intensified that fear. Legolas shushed me.

“I think it's gone,” Legolas whispered.

“No. I can feel it,” I whispered back.

The desire returned slowly, I buried my face in Legolas's back to distract myself from the burning feeling. I felt him move his arm to draw his knives. We could hear the sounds of hooves again, it was nearing the cave; all we could do was hope that the rider didn't see the horses on the other side of the cave.

I looked up, passing the cave was a huge black horse and on top was something that looked like a man. He was covered in all black robes. A hood covered his head, but when his hood moved, there was no head, only blackness. I knew what it was immediately. My instincts told me. The feeling increased even more. I could feel myself pressing against Legolas slightly to get to the rider, I couldn't stop my own body.

It felt as if this took minutes, but he didn't even look inside, his horse was at a hard gallop. The feeling subsided as the rider moved on. I silently thanked Legolas for being there to stop me from getting to him. I inhaled sharply once the sound of the hooves disappeared, I wasn't aware that I was holding my breath.

“What was that?” Thalion whispered to the left of me.

“One of nine,” I whispered, frozen in fear.

Legolas moved quickly, “There will be more where that came from. We need to leave, now.” He was already packing his stuff as he said this. I followed suit.

“What if we run into them on the road?” Arthion whispered, he stared at us with wide eyes, horror across his face.

“It is better than them finding us here,” I said while turning to look him in the eyes, “Don't be a coward.”

He glared at me before turning to pack his own things, though I spotted a bit of shame on his face as he turned. I quickly shoved my stuff into a bag, not bothering to organize any of it. Arthion was the last to mount his horse, he was obviously still apprehensive about leaving.

“We need to head straight for Rivendell, we can be there by sunrise tomorrow if we push,” I said to Legolas as we began leaving. He nodded. I turned to the others, “If we run into one, don't bother trying to fight, just flee.” They both looked at me with frightened eyes. Legolas simply nodded in agreement.

Legolas and I lead the group at a sprint. I kept my eyes to the path in front of us and hoped that the sun would come soon.

*          *          *

Sunrise came without issue and we slowed to a trot. We stopped twice for food and to let the horses rest, but we did not dare stop at night for fear that we would be spotted by one of them. By sunrise on October twenty-fifth, we had neared the borders of Rivendell.

We made a camp near the river to freshen ourselves before our arrival. For the first time in days I had been able to clean myself.

I changed into the slip that I was to wear underneath my outfit for the council and was stepping into the dress when I heard footsteps coming out of the woods. Before I could grab a weapon Legolas stepped out of the trees, he was staring down at his trousers, struggling with unlacing them. He had removed his shirt already and was carrying it in his teeth. He had almost bumped into me before he looked up. I have never seen a grown man blush as much as he did in that moment.

There we were: my dress around my feet, clad in only a sheer slip, and Legolas shirtless with his trousers untied, both of us staring at each other in shock.

“I - I thought you were changing on the outside of camp,” he stammered, “I'll just go back until you return.” He turned and rushed away from me.

“Legolas, wait!” He stopped with his back still facing me. I pulled up my dress on, “Could you button the back, please? I can't do it myself.” I truly did need help, but I wouldn’t pass a chance to embarrass him. The journey had bored me.

He turned around slowly, still red, and stared at me with wide eyes.

“You act as if you've never seen a woman in her undergarments before,” I laughed, trying to hide my own embarrassment.

He shook his head. “W-Well, paintings.”

“Oh.” I blushed, “I can just find a way to button it myself.” I grabbed my dirty clothes and walked towards the camp.

“No – I mean I could do it for you,” Legolas nervously touched my shoulder with the tips of his fingers.

I stopped and pulled my hair out of the way. His fingers shakily moved towards the first button, which was a bit lower than comfortable. He pulled the fabric away from my body so that he wouldn't touch my hips, buttoned it quickly, then moved through the other buttons carefully.

“Thank you,” I whispered as he finished. I walked towards the camp without turning back to look at him. I looked at my dress for the first time. It was a dark blue, the collar of it scooped low and hung a little off the center of my shoulders. The sleeves fit tight to my elbows where they began draping, the fabric at my wrist hung down nearly to my knees. It was definitely grand. I would be sure to thank Thranduil later.

Thalion and Arthion were laughing loudly when I returned, nearly doubling over on the logs they sat upon. “What's so funny?”

Thalion quickly pulled himself together when he heard my voice, “Oh nothing.” They both stifled their giggles and avoided eye contact with me.

I ignored them and brushed through my wet, messy hair. A sudden silence fell across them. I turned to see them both staring at me in awe.

“What?” They both shook their heads and returned to their business.

“I am sure Legolas enjoyed it with her looking like _that_.” Arthion said quietly, but not quietly enough.

“What did you say?” I turned to him angrily, dropping my brush.

Arthion stared at me with those wide, scared eyes once again. Before I could strangle them to death, a knife flew through the camp and lodged into the tree, just above Thalion's head. Seconds later, Legolas walked into the camp from the direction the knife came, glaring at them both. They both stared at him in shock.

“It would be most wise not to anger me,” I growled at them. Arthion bobbed his head up and down fearfully.

“I don't believe we'll be needing your service any longer, you can go home now.” Legolas said while angrily packing his things. He pulled

 

“We were ordered by King Thranduil to escort you all the way to Rivendell,” Thalion stood and crossed his arms stubbornly. Arthion, on the other hand, was already packing his things.

Legolas ignored him and pulled his robes on over his head, they were a gray velvety material and reached all the way to the tops of his boots. The high collar of his shirt peaked out above them and the sleeves fell to his wrists. He began angrily ripping through his hair with a comb.

I pulled on my cloak and packed my things. When I finished, Legolas was sitting on a stump struggling with the braid at the back of his head, he'd already braided the two at the sides of his head,

“Would you like some help?” I walked over to him.

He nodded, dropping his hand to his sides in defeat. I walked behind him and ran my fingers through his soft blonde hair to brush it out, once I'd fixed his mess I began expertly braiding the hair. He leaned his head back slightly and glared at Thalion and Arthion who kept curiously staring at us.

“You're as helpless as a child,” I sighed as I finished the braid, “There you go, Princess Legolas.”

He slapped my hand away.

“It's time to leave,” Thalion announced, interrupting my banter, “Arthion and I will leave once we reach the borders of Rivendell. Do not worry.”

I mounted the horse before Legolas, struggling to sit with my dress, I used my long cloak for modesty. We set off for the borders of Rivendell.

Once we had entered the kingdom, Thalion and Arthion left without another word. It seemed as if my friendship with Thalion was officially over. Legolas and I rode on the ledges that led to the entrance of Rivendell. We barely spoke the entire ride. We were both staring in awe at the grand architecture of the buildings and the clear, beautiful water that surrounded it. It had been many years since I'd visited my friends that resided here.

Guards were waiting for us as we came upon the entrance. I dismounted from the horse before Legolas, who was still staring at the scenery.

“Prince Legolas, welcome!” Lord Elrond walked through the doors and down the steps.

Legolas dismounted and went to greet Elrond. I dismounted and hid myself behind the horse, which stood between me and Elrond. I was the last person Elrond would expect to see. Servants were around me, unloading our possessions from the horses.

“Who is your companion?” He gestured towards me. As he asked this, several servants began leading the horses towards the barn while the others took our possessions to our rooms.

He introduced me as I walked into Elrond's vision. “This is Rhava.”

“I need to speak with you.” I stated seriously, pushing past the awkward reunion scene.

Elrond looked shocked at my sudden appearance, but he quickly regained his composure. “I have business to attend to, I will speak with you tomorrow. It would be an honor if you would attend the council this evening, I'm sure you have some unique experience to add to our debate.” He walked away as he said this, towards a group that had just arrived.

I was expecting more excitement.


	5. The Council of Elrond

Legolas and I sat in our seats in the council chamber, awaiting the arrival of the others. I sat to Legolas's right, between him and another elf. Four dwarves sat a couple seats down to us, I managed to mask most of my repulsion. They spared a few glares at us every few minutes, which we returned.

As I was returning a glare to one of the older dwarves, a blonde elf made his entrance. His eyes swept through the room and froze on me, his face paled.

He nodded once and took his seat on the other side of Legolas. Every couple minutes I would catch one him staring at me, as if he were making sure I was real and not just a horrific image created by his imagination. I could feel Legolas's curious stare on the side of my head, but I refused to answer it.

Mithrandir, he looked over the members and smiled at me. “It is nice to see you with your people again.”

I smiled back. “We both know I don't stay in one place for very long.”

I had met Gandalf several times in my hundreds of years of traveling; though they had mostly been brief, he still considered me to be a friend, as I considered him one as well. A halfling followed behind him; I gasped as he entered the room, it felt as if a darkness pressed against my entire body. I gripped my chair to keep myself calm. Gandalf looked at me curiously before taking his seat near the end; the halfling sat next to him. After a few moments I became accustomed to the feeling and I was able to relax – mostly.

The chamber filled during my brief episode. Two older men sat to the left of Galdor, and men filled the seats to the left of the dwarves. I became aware that I was the only woman in the room. The men stared at me curiously, some disapprovingly. I recognized the man closest to Elladan as Aragorn. He nodded at me, a friendlier greeting than any of my kinsmen had given me; I returned the greeting.

Four seats down from him sat Boromir, son of the steward of Gondor. I cursed silently. Boromir was a friendly man of good intentions, but I knew his father well enough to know how this was going to turn out. I learned my lesson when he had locked me in the dungeons of Minas Tirith. As I was analyzing the members of the council, a familiar woman walked by, she smiled at Aragorn.

“Lord Elrond had a child?” I whispered to Legolas quietly as Elrond entered the chamber.

He stared back at me as if I were dim. “I was under the impression that you were related to them.”

“Distantly.” I replied.

I returned my attention to Elrond, who was beginning to speak.

“Strangers from distant lands, friends of old. You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom.” Elrond stood in front of his throne, speaking with authority. “Bring forth the ring, Frodo.”

The halfling stepped towards the stone table timidly, he reached into his pocket and laid down the ring.

_Take the ring to Sauron, give in to the darkness, it will make you stronger._

I gasped and gripped my seat tighter. I couldn't take my eyes off the ring. Next to me, Legolas was grimacing and staring at the ring suspiciously. It was speaking to him as well.

Boromir stood, keeping his eyes on the ring, “In a dream I saw the Eastern sky grow dark. In the West a pale light lingered. A voice was crying, your doom is near at hand.” Boromir reached towards the ring, “Isildur's bane is found.”

“Boromir!” Elrond bellowed.

Gandalf stood and began to chant, “ ** _Ash nazg durbatulûk_** ,” Boromir fell back to his seat as the sky began to darken, “ ** _Ash nazg gimbatul_** ,” I began feeling faint, I closed my eyes, “ ** _Ash nazg thrakatulûk_** ,” I could feel the allure of the darkness again, “ ** _Agh burzum-ishi krimpatul_**.”

I opened my eyes again after he finished. Legolas removed the hand he had put on my arm sometime during the chant and relaxed slightly.

“Never before has anyone uttered words of that tongue here in Imladris!” Elrond yelled at Gandalf angrily.

“I do not ask your pardon Master Elrond for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West! The Ring is altogether evil!” Gandalf returned to his seat with a huff.

Boromir stood. “It is a gift – a gift to the foes of Mordor! Why not use this Ring? Long has my father – the Steward of Gondor – held the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy, let us use it against him!”

“You cannot wield it. None of us can. The one ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master.” Aragorn answered wisely.

“And what would a ranger know of this matter?” Boromir looked at Aragorn arrogantly.

I found myself staring at the ring – their words had become background noise to me.

Legolas stood angrily, shocking me out of my trance. “This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance.”

Boromir turned to Aragorn and looked at him in disbelief, “Aragorn? This is Isildur's heir?”

“And heir to the throne of Gondor,” Legolas glared at Boromir.

“ _Havo dad, Legolas_.” Aragorn said quietly.

Legolas continued standing, still locked in a glare with Boromir, I reached and touched his elbow lightly, “Sit down, princess,” Only Legolas and the elves and men sitting near me could hear it. The old men closest to us chuckled lightly and the elves bit back their smiles. Legolas glared at me before sitting.

“Gondor has no king,” he said to Legolas before he turned to Boromir, “Gondor needs no king.” Boromir sat with an angry look on his face.

“Aragorn is right, we cannot use it,” Gandalf chimed in.

“We have only one choice, the ring must be destroyed.” Elrond announced. I scoffed. They could not defeat Him then, how could they expect to defeat Him now?

“Then what are we waiting for?” One of the dwarves stood, he swung his axe down on the ring. I flinched as the axe hit the ring with a deafening sound.

Pain shot through my head. Elrond looked at me curiously as I held my head in my hands. Gandalf was looking at Frodo, it seemed as if the same happened to him.

The dwarf was on the floor now, looking at the ring in disbelief; his axe had shattered into pieces all around him.

            “The ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess. The ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom – only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor, and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this.” We all fell into silence at Lord Elrond's words.

Boromir pinched the bridge of his nose. “One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep and the great eye is ever watchful. Tis a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly.” He shook his head.

I stood now, “Boromir, I am growing tired of your incessant bickering. You are acting like a child.” I glared at him; he shrunk beneath my gaze, but there was a flash of recognition.

Legolas stood next to me, “Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!”

Gimli stood angrily, “And I suppose you two think you're the ones to do it.” I turned my glare to him now.

Boromir stood once my glare was diverted, “And if we fail what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?”

“What do you think will happen?” I yelled in his direction. He shrunk back again.

“I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an elf,” Gimli yelled catching my attention again, “Never trust an elf!”

I looked at him with disbelief.

The other elves were behind us now, yelling at Gimli. I moved forward slightly, only to be pushed back by Legolas's arm. He and Gimli were glaring at each other, a flurry of elvish words fell from Legolas's lips and Gimli was making some odd guttural sounds.

“I will take it!” Frodo's voice interrupted the chaos. We all turned to him. “I will take the Ring to Mordor! Though, I do not know the way.”

There was silence for a moment.

“I will help you bear this burden Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear.” Gandalf stood behind him with his hand on his shoulder.

Aragorn walked to Frodo and knelt in front of him, “If by my life or death I can protect you, I will. You have my sword.”

Legolas left my side and walked to Frodo, “And you have my bow.”

For a moment I deliberated. It was dangerous for me to be so close to the ring, but they would never make it without me. Legolas would never make it without me. I followed him, “And my knives.” I took my place between Legolas and Gandalf. Gandalf smirked at Lord Elrond, who looked at me with uncertainty. Thranduil was fortunate I was indebted to him.

Gimli followed behind me, “And my axe.” He stared at Legolas with a smirk. Legolas grimaced.

Boromir walked forward. “You carry the fate of us all little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done.”

“AYE!” I jumped slightly and spun to see a halfling jump from the bushes to Frodo's side, “Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me.” He crossed his arms in defiance.

“No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not.” Elrond said smiling a bit at the halfling.

Two other halflings jumped from behind two pillars, “Wait! We're coming too!” One of them said while running forward, the other fell close behind. Elrond looked at them, flabbergasted. “You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us.”

The other one spoke finally, “Besides, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission....quest....thing!”

“Well that rules you out, Pip.” He said to his friend.

Elrond looked over the group, “Ten companions. So be it! You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!”

“Great!” Pip said, “Where are we going?”

*          *          *

            Elrond and Gandalf stood at the balcony speaking, unaware of my arrival.

“We should give time for the Nine to return to Mordor before you leave,” Elrond sighed.

“One passed through the Misty Mountains days ago,” I said, making my presence known. They turned to me. “Thranduil said I should speak to you. I'm being tracked by orcs, and I want to know _exactly_ why,” I said simply.

“I told you that we can speak about it tomorrow,” Elrond sighed, turning back to his conversation with Gandalf.

“I think you should speak with her now,” Gandalf interrupted him. He smiled at me before exiting the room.

I looked at Elrond expectantly. He pressed his fingers to his temples. “You should sit down for this,” he gestured towards a bench on the balcony.

I sat. “Why am I being tracked?”

He sat next to me, an exhausted look on his face. “You should really be speaking to Galadriel about this.” He sighed.

“Well unfortunately I don't have time for that. I am tired of being deterred.”

He sat silently for a few moments before starting, “You honestly do not remember a thing, do you?”

I shook my head, “There is a large part of my life during the war that I cannot remember.”

“You have very strong abilities,” Elrond said.

I grimaced, “I know this; I choose to not use them.”

Elrond rubbed his face tiredly, “You do not have that choice.” He paused, “Have you recently felt yourself losing control of your actions when you fight?”

I nodded. “I often do.”

“They want you because of this,” he whispered. “You are almost completely unstoppable in battle. You have the abilities of a powerful being – and these are not your own.” He paused before speaking again, “You fought against Her. Do you remember what struck you down? She does not die – after that battle, it was believed that She took the body of a mortal. Her powers are increasing as Sauron's power grows, but He does not know where you are yet, and you should attempt to keep it that way.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose to calm my nerves, yet I was not distraught. There was no grief. It was as if my emotions were fading over time. “So, the only possible way I can survive is if the ring is destroyed?”

“If fate is kind, yes.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning we set out from Rivendell towards the gap of Rohan. The days of walking and camping blurred together. The group had begun bonding; the elves were even on better terms with Gimli. Legolas and I were in a constant competition to see who the better archer or swordsmen was.

We had found shelter enough to build a small fire, though it was beginning to grow dark and we would have to put it out soon to avoid being spotted by unfriendly eyes. I sat by the warm glow of the fire, clutching my stick sword. Legolas had disappeared and it was likely he was planning a surprise attack.

“What are you doing?” Boromir chuckled at me from his watch-point at the edge of the forest clearing.

I shushed him. “Where did Legolas go?” I whispered.

“I do not know,” he stared at me in confusion. “You look frightened.”

“They’re having a competition,” Aragorn explained. He and the others were sitting on logs that they had gathered around the fire.

“I’m betting on Rhava,” Pippin smiled.

“Thank you, Pippin.” I laughed.

As my nerves eased slightly, a nimble elf dropped from the branches above me. I fell back and kicked my foot at the stick in his hand. Despite being unarmed, Legolas straddled me. He pinned my hands back and pried my stick away. I jerked away and shoved his chest roughly. As I attempted to wretch from his grasp, he grabbed my throat and slammed me back – he put his other hand behind my head to avoid hurting me.

“ _Dangen le_ ,” (you would be dead) he smirked.

“ _Amin ve’ ta iire lle quora amin._ ” (I like it when you choke me) I whispered raspily.

He stared at me in confusion, then wretched his hand away in horror when he realized the meaning behind my words.

“You do not fight well without a weapon,” he said, distracting me from the dark red of his cheeks.

“I have never had to learn,” I said, reaching my hand out for him to help me up.

He jerked me up roughly, making me collide against him. “I’ll teach you,” he whispered.

His eyes were dark – almost alluring. I leaned forward slightly, towards his lips. “Teach me what?” I cleared my throat, catching myself before I did something foolish.

He looked slightly disappointed. “I’ll teach you how to fight with your hands.” He clarified. “I was caught outside of my father’s realm without weapons once. I was nearly killed.”

“Show me your expertise,” I bowed gracefully, extending my hand to him.

He grabbed my wrist and twisted it painfully behind my back. “Don’t lower your defenses,” he whispered in my ear.

*          *          *

“I will not be stranded without my weapons, Legolas!” I snapped at him.

“I have.” He shoved me back by my shoulders and advanced on me.

“I am not you. I am over six thousand years old.” I snapped.

He stopped for a moment. “You were born in the Second Age?”

“End of the First Age. I have been alive around six thousand and five hundred years now, I suppose.”

“How do you know my father?” he asked suspiciously.

“He lived in Lindon for a time. His family was powerful, so was mine,” I replied.

“He told me stories about a fair maiden whom he was to wed. She had silver hair and silver eyes.” He sighed. “And she died before their wedding. I thought she was a peasant. I never thought I would meet her.”

“She was not a peasant; she was powerful, and she did not die.” I picked up my knives and whetstone and began sharpening to avoid the uncomfortable conversation.

“My father typically gets what he wants. I assumed status was dividing you.”

“Your father fell in love with a Silvan elf in the Greenwood. Thousands of years passed and we could not see each other. We fell out of love and then attempted to rekindle it. It did not work; he was devoted to another. I was going to go back to him nearly three thousand years ago, not out of love, but because I needed his help. I neared the kingdom, and then I saw you with your mother.”

“You knew my mother?” He looked hopeful.

“She fought in the Battle of Dagorlad. She was one of the fiercest warriors I have ever seen; so was your father.” I stood up and put my weapons carefully back in their scabbards. “But, Legolas, after three thousand years of being trained by the best Elvish warriors in Lindon, and nearly three thousand years of running and learning the fighting styles of Men, Dwarves, Orcs, and other Elves –” I walked up to him casually, kicked his feet from underneath him, and slammed him to the ground. “I am the most powerful warrior you will ever meet. You may be able to fight better than me with your fists, but if I aim to kill you, I can – easily.”

He stared up at me with wide, terrified eyes.

“If anyone is to teach fighting, it will be me. Do not test me, Legolas.” I released him and walked back to the group’s clearing. I intended to keep him at a distance; we were growing too close.

Aragorn watched me from his post on the outside of the clearing as I walked back into camp. The darkness fell over me as I neared Frodo and the ring. I nearly wished I was back with Legolas in the woods. I found the furthest spot from Frodo, near Boromir. The weight on my chest lessened, but not enough to give me any respite. I could hear distant whispering of a dark voice. It never quieted, even when I plugged my ears.

*          *          *

After weeks of constant travel we decided to take a long breakfast break to relax our tired bodies and minds. Aragorn and Boromir were training Pippin to use a sword and Sam was at the campfire cooking our food. I was laying on a rock in the sun, far away from Frodo and the ring. I managed to keep my dark instincts at bay when I kept myself far away from him.

Gimli was sitting behind me, speaking to Gandalf, “If anyone was to ask for my opinion, which I note that they're not, I'd say that we were taking the long way round. Gandalf, we could pass through the Mines of Moria. My cousin Balin would give us a royal welcome.”

“No Gimli, I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice.” Gandalf sighed.

I watched the swordsman in training, he was actually doing quite well. Boromir's sword slipped from his hand slightly and fell on Pippin's hand. Pippin cried out in pain.

“Sorry!” Boromir stepped forward to look at the cut and as he did Pippin stepped forward and kicked him in the leg.

“Get him!” Merry yelled and joined Pippin's attack on Boromir.

“For the Shire! Hold him down Merry!” We all laughed at their attack.

Aragorn stood up, “Gentlemen, that's enough!” He grabbed the back of their shirts, before he could lift them they turned around and grabbed his legs, sending him backwards onto the ground.

I sat up. I felt something – as if we were being watched. I looked out into the distance, there was a dark cloud heading this way. I stood and took a few steps towards it. I wanted to get closer to it. My mind began feeling hazy as I stepped towards the alluring force. I heard Legolas yell something. Before I could lay my foot on the ground, something crashed into me. I fell to the ground struggling for breath.

When I opened my eyes I was under a rock with Legolas on top of me. His head was turned. He was watching the sky. His jaw was almost touching my nose and his full weight was on me. I inhaled finally, he smelled of the forest, a deep earthy scent. He turned to me, feeling my gaze. We were nose to nose.

I heard the call of the birds – _crebain_ – that were flying by us, the darkness overwhelmed me now. My eyes rolled back in my head, Legolas's hand stopped my head from hitting the ground. His other hand was against my cheek.

“Rhava?” He whispered, stroking my cheek. I opened my eyes as the birds flew into the distance, “Are you okay?” He whispered.

I gulped and nodded slowly. He continued looking into my eyes, an unfamiliar emotion filled them.

“Should we give you two some privacy?” I broke our eye contact. Pippin was crouched down next to us, staring at us both with a smirk.

Legolas turned bright red. He rolled off of me and quickly collected himself. I followed. Aragorn stared at us with confused interest. The rest averted their gazes, except for Gandalf, who stared at me with worry.

Gandalf broke the awkward silence, “Spies of Saruman. The passage south is being watched. We must take the Pass of Caradhras.”

 

 

 

***Author's note: I post these as I finish editing them. Once I finish posting all of them I will come back through and edit. These are pretty rushed.


	7. Journey in the Dark

The next day we trekked through the snow of the Caradhras, making out way to the pass. Legolas and I easily walked on the top of the snow, the others were struggling through the deep piles. I stood at the front of the group, leading the way over the mountain.

I felt a darkness surround the mountain; I looked out into the distance, trying to see it. I edged my way towards the side; Legolas moved next to me.

Boromir began complaining loudly about the snow.

“ _Dina!_ ” (Silence) Legolas commanded. “There is a fell voice on the air.”

“ ** _Cuiva nwalca Carnirasse; nai yarvaxea rasselya!_** ” Dark spells spun in the wind, my mind went into the dizzy haze again. I fought to stay aware but my body was too affected by the words. I repeated them back to Legolas quietly. He was staring at me with a curious look.

“Wake up cruel Redhorn…may your horn be bloodstained.”

Legolas turned to Gandalf. “It’s Quenya.”

“It's Saruman!” Gandalf yelled.

A loud crack came from the top. I felt Legolas's arm circle my waist. He threw me back against the wall as huge rocks fell from above. He held me there securely by my waist with my body against his chest.

 ** _Give him your power. Lend it to Saruman._** The whispers from the ring grew strong. I moaned at the pain shooting through my body. It was not unpleasant; it was powerful. I felt myself slipping into it.

“Rhava, what are you doing?” Legolas grabbed my jaw and forced me to look at him. “Stop!”

I was suddenly aware that I had been chanting along with Saruman. I gripped my leg. The pain kept me focused on reality.

“He's trying to bring down the mountain!” Aragorn yelled, “Gandalf! We must turn back!”

“No!” Gandalf exclaimed. He stepped forward and began to chant his own spell, “ _Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho i 'ruith!_ ” (Sleep, Caradhras, be still, lie still, hold your wrath!)

I pressed up against Legolas harder, trying to get closer to the alluring sounds. A loud crack came from above as a bolt of lightning hit the top of the mountain. An avalanche of snow fell. It hit me and Legolas like a brick.  I fell to my knees in the cold powder. I struggled in the snow, trying to push it off me. Seconds later I felt Legolas's hand around my waist again, he pulled me up from it.

“Are you okay?” He asked me.

I nodded, shivering from the cold. He gave me an odd look but pulled me back against his chest and wrapped his cloak around the both of us – elves did not get cold. The others emerged from the snow seconds later.

“We must get off the mountain!” Boromir yelled, “Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!”

“The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!” Aragorn argued.

“If we cannot pass over the mountain, let us go under it!” Gimli yelled, “Let us go through the Mines of Moria”

“Let the Ringbearer decide.” Gandalf said, I could see the fear on his face.

“We cannot stay here! This will be the death of the hobbits!” Boromir yelled, Merry and Pippin clung to him, shivering.

“Frodo?” Gandalf looked to him.

“We will go through the Mines.” Frodo said reluctantly.

“So be it.”

*          *          *

We walked through the misty valley under the cover of darkness. Gimli stopped in front of us and pointed, “Ah, the walls of Moria!” He tapped against the wall with his ax, “Dwarf doors are invisible when closed.”

“Yes Gimli! Their own masters cannot find them, if their secrets are forgotten.” Gandalf observed the wall.

“Why doesn't that surprise me?” Legolas asked sarcastically. I snickered.

Gandalf found the spot on the wall, “Ah, now let me see: _Ithildin_. It mirrors only starlight and moonlight.” He looked up at the sky. The moon shined on the wall, revealing the glimmering doors. They glowed a bright white and Elvish writing was at the top of them, “It reads 'The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria, Speak Friend and Enter',” Gandalf said.

“What do you suppose that means?” Merry asked.

“Oh it's quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open,” He turned back to the door, “ _Annon Edhellen, edro hi ammen_!” Empty silence fell after his words. Gandalf began reciting other spells.

“Nothing’s happening,” Pippin said, looking up to Legolas.

“I once knew every spell in all the tongues of elves, men and orcs.” Gandalf muttered.

“What're you going to do, then?” Pippin asked.

“Knock your head against these doors Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them and I'm allowed a little peace from foolish questions I will try to find the opening words.” Gandalf yelled. He flinched and backed up against me. I ruffled his hair a bit. He smiled up at me.

I sat on a rock near the entrance with Legolas as Gandalf muttered different spells. As we were waiting, Merry began throwing rocks into the water and Pippin joined him. Aragorn grabbed their hands and whispered something to them.

“Oh it's useless!” Gandalf threw his staff on the ground.

“It's a riddle,” Frodo said.

I nudged Legolas and pointed towards the ripples in the water. He stood nervously.

“What's the Elvish word for friend?” Frodo asked.

“ _Mellon_ ,” Gandalf replied. The doors shook and broke open, hurling pebbles and dust into the air and giving way into a dark passage.

I pulled Legolas past the doors after Gandalf, giving one last look to the water.

“Soon Master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the dwarves.” Gimli said, “Roaring fires! Malt Beer! Red Meat off the bone!”

Gandalf placed a crystal on top of his staff and blew on it, lighting it up.

“This, my friend, is the home of my cousin Balin and they call it a Mine!” He laughed, “A mine!”

“This isn't a mine, it's a tomb!” Boromir looked around at the scattered corpses.

Gimli ran towards the corpses screaming, denying the death of his kin.

Legolas picked up an arrow. He analyzed it briefly before throwing it down. “Goblins!”

I grabbed my bow and backed towards Legolas defensively.

“We make for the gap of Rohan. We should never have come here!” Boromir yelled. “Now get out of here! Get out!”

I backed out towards the entrance, someone screamed. A huge tentacle had grabbed Frodo by the foot and was trying to put him in its round, fanged mouth. Other tentacles twisted around, fighting off the others. I shot at one of the tentacles. The others were slashing through them in the water. Boromir finally managed to cut the tentacle that was holding Frodo. He caught him in his arms and ran towards the mines.

“Legolas!” He yelled.

Legolas shot an arrow into the face of the creature. It coiled back with a high, piercing screech. I ran back into the mines. The creature followed us; the tentacles gripped at the door and forced it to collapse. The stones fell with a deafening crash and plummeted us into the darkness.

Gandalf lit his staff, bathing us in a soft blue light. “We now have but one choice; we must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard, there are older and fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the world. Quietly now, it’s a four day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed.”

We walked through the dark, abandoned halls of Moria for hours. We spoke little, careful not to wake anything that could be lying in the darkness.

 

We reached a small area with three doors, each leading to darkness. Gandalf turned to us, “I've no memory of this place.”

A quiet panic settled in the group as we waited for Gandalf to lead us out of this dark place.

I walked to where Gandalf was smoking his pipe.

“Hello Rávawendë,” Gandalf said as sat down, “I was wondering when you would come to speak with me.”

“The ring is taking me,” I sighed with a slight grimace at my full name. “It speaks to me all the time.” I noticed Legolas turn slightly towards us.

“What does it tell you?”

“It tells me to give in to the darkness, that it will make me stronger.”

“You have an attraction to darkness. She seeks to control you.” He began whispering, realizing that Legolas had turned his attention to us. “You must learn how to handle these urges. I do not believe Sauron has realized that you are with us yet. He has scattered his spies across Middle-Earth to find you. He cannot afford to have you fight on our side.”

“Is there any hope for me?”

“I do not know,” he squeezed my shoulder comfortingly. “Your only hope lies in the destruction of the Ring, if you can survive the damage that she will leave on your soul.”

I nodded. None could tell me what I did not already know. “Thank you, Mithrandir.” I had hoped that he would leave me with positive assurance, but I knew that he would tell me nothing but the truth.

I left as Frodo walked up to him with urgency. I sat against the ledge of the path that led to the doors; Legolas hopped down and joined me.

He opened his hand, offering me berries that he had collected a few days past. He had not shared them with anybody – he was lucky to find a handful of them as it was. I took one and popped it in my mouth, enjoying the sweet, tangy juices of the fruit. It had been long since we had been able to enjoy sweet foods.

“Thank you, Legolas,” I whispered as I closed my tired eyes and leaned against him, allowing myself a few moments off affection towards him.

“Ah, it's that way!” Gandalf interrupted my two seconds of sleep.

“He's remembered!” Merry said jumping up.

Gandalf stood at the first doorway. “No, but the air doesn't smell so foul down here. If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose.”

Legolas politely offered me a hand to help me stand and followed me.

Mithrandir led us into the dark hall, down steps, and out of a passageway.

“Let me risk a little more light.” He blew on his staff a bit. “Behold the great realm and dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf.” He shined his light upon the room, revealing great columns that reached all the way to the high ceiling. Moria must have once been a magnificent city; the Dwarves did have a taste for things of beauty and value. It is odd that they were in bad standing with the Elves.

“There's an eye-opener and no mistake,” Sam whispered.

We walked through the center of the city, admiring the grandeur of what was once a busy and lively hall. Suddenly, Gimli spotted a room illuminated by a cool, blue light and ran to it with a yell.

“Gimli!” Gandalf ran after him.

We followed Gandalf. Gimli dropped in front of a tomb in the center of the room sobbing.

“Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria. He is dead then. It's as I feared.” Gandalf passed his staff and his hat off to Pippin before opening a book that was laying in the lap of a carcass, “They have taken the Bridge and the second hall. We have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums. Drums in the deep. We cannot get out.”

I reached for my bow nervously.

“A shadow moves in the dark.”

I jumped slightly as I felt Legolas's hand on my shoulder, but moved closer to him.

“We cannot get out. They are coming.”

A loud crash came from the corner of the room. Legolas pulled me back against him by my shoulder. Pippin stood guiltily in the corner where the sound came from; a bucket had fallen into the well. The rest of the skeleton fell, banging against the sides and creating an echoing sound. We all waited, holding our breath. No sound came.

I exhaled loudly, nearly crumbling to my knees with the sudden release of pressure. I could have sworn there was a spark of excitement in my heart. I craved battle.

“Fool of a Took!” Gandalf shut the book angrily, “Throw yourself in next time, and rid us of your stupidity!” Pip looked at the ground in shame.

A deep drum sound shook the room. And another. The sound became faster and louder. Legolas's hand was digging into my shoulder. Something began shrieking and yelling in the distance.

“Orcs!” Legolas yelled, he took his hand from my shoulder and loaded his bow.

Boromir ran to the doors. Two arrows struck the door near his head; he grimaced and pulled them closed. “They have a cave troll,” he smiled sarcastically. I had a feeling Boromir had seen many bloody battles.

Aragorn pushed me towards the hobbits, “Get back! Stay close to Gandalf!”

“I will fight!” I moved next to Legolas and aimed my bow towards the door.

“We don't have time to watch over you! Get over there with the hobbits! We need real fighters out here!” Boromir yelled.

“Did you think I came on this journey because I thought it would be a pleasant trip? Have you forgotten who you are speaking to, Boromir?”

The orcs began banging on the door, distracting the men from arguing with me.

Gimli jumped up on Balin's tomb. “Let them come There's one dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath.”

The first orcs began cutting down the door; Legolas, Aragorn and I shot arrows through the gaps. The doors broke down, orcs piled in. I smiled; I put my bow on my back and drew my knives, craving the close combat. I violently swung my knife and beheaded an orc that ran towards me.

 I stabbed the next in the stomach with both blades and growled in its face. I withdrew my knives with a smile and turned to the others. I spun and cut an orc behind me with one of my knives, and the other I shoved in an orc's neck, making thick, black blood spray across me.

I turned to a loud crack; a cave troll had just smashed through the door and into the room. I returned to fighting the nearby orcs. I felt the power and energy of battle fill my body; I was in a dazed fury.

A scream woke me from my daze, Frodo was on the ground motionless and Merry and Pippin were on top of the troll. The troll began flailing. Before I could move out of the way, its huge fist slammed into the side of my body and sent me flying into the wall. My knives clattered against the fell next to me. I sunk to my knees. A sore pain covered the right side of my body.

I looked up to see Legolas fire an arrow into the troll's mouth. The troll groaned once and fell to the floor in front of him, the room calmed into an eerie silence.

I stared at Frodo from where I fell. He was not moving. Aragorn crawled over to him. Dread filled my entire body. I held my breath.

“Oh no,” Aragorn whispered. He turned him over. Frodo clutched his chest and began gasping.

“He's alive!” Sam ran to his friend's side.

“I'm alright. I'm not hurt.” Frodo looked about the room.

“You should be dead!” Aragorn said in disbelief, “That spear would have skewered a wild boar!”

“I think there's more to this hobbit than meets the eye.” Gandalf smiled at Frodo.

Frodo parted the top of his shirt, revealing sparkling gems underneath.

“Mithril!” Gimli was astonished. “You're full of surprises Master Baggins!”

Orcs began screeching in the distance. I snatched my knives from the floor and shoved them back into their scabbards. Legolas ran to me and helped me to my feet.

“To the bridge of Khazad-dum!” Gandalf yelled.

Legolas grabbed my wrist and pulled me along. I ran with him as best I could, trying to ignore the soreness in my right shoulder. We ran into the main halls of the city, chased by orcs. They began to swarm from all directions, trapping us in a circle.

I yanked away from Legolas and drew my knives. One of the orcs growled at me with a smile, I smiled back and released a feral growl. Legolas glanced at me with an odd look on his face. Before I could tear their bodies to shreds, a deep rumbling growl shook the entire city. The orcs around us yelped and ran away in fear. Legolas pushed me behind him and aimed his bow in the direction of the sound.

His chivalrous tendencies were beginning to get on my nerves, but before I could draw my knives and push past him, I began to feel the dark allure. It was stronger than any before.

“What is this new devilry?” Boromir whispered.

The passage in front of us began to glow red. I fought the urge as much as I could and struggled to remain aware.

“A balrog: a demon of the ancient world,” Gandalf said dreadfully. “Its foe is beyond any of you. RUN!”

I ran with them in a dizzy haze. I allowed Legolas to pull me along with him again, knowing that if he stopped I would not be able to keep going. We ran towards the bridge as quickly as we could. Boromir lead the way. He ran down a short set of stairs but stopped quickly, realizing that they suddenly ended. He teetered on the edge of the steps. Before he could fall into the chasm, Legolas left my side and pulled him back. Gandalf stumbled in behind me. I stood still, internally fighting the pull of the darkness.

“Gandalf!” Aragorn yelled.

“Lead them on Aragorn. The Bridge is near!” Gandalf ordered, he pushed him forward, “Do as I say! Swords are of no more use here.”

I still stood in a haze.

“Fight it, Rhava!” Gandalf yelled to me as he walked by, I snapped out of it and followed close behind him.

We wound through steep staircases towards the bridge; we stopped at a break in the steps. Legolas agilely jumped over the gap.

“Gandalf!” He beckoned him to follow.

Gandalf looked around before following him.

“Rhava!” Legolas turned to me. Before I could jump, an arrow flew towards me and struck my leg. I buckled over with a scream and clutched the wound.

“Throw her!” Legolas commanded. I felt hands grab my waist, and before I could react, I was in the air. I fell into Legolas's arms.

I turned and yelled at the orcs that fired the arrows at me, “ _Nadorhuanrim!_ ” (Cowardly dogs) Legolas turned and shot an arrow at them. The others were beginning to jump across the stairs as well.

“Are you ready?” He held the arrow that was sticking out of my leg. “It could be covered with poison,” he explained.

I nodded and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He placed a hand on my back to steady me. With one yank, Legolas pulled out the bloody arrow. I screamed into his chest, biting back the stinging tears.

Legolas examined it briefly, searching for clotted blood before flinging it down into the cavern. “Nothing,” he said.

I turned away from him and pulled my bow out. I shot at the orcs. Legolas looked at me worriedly before turning back to help the others across. A small portion of the stairs had fallen away. Gimli, Frodo, and Aragorn stood on the other side.

“Nobody tosses a dwarf!” I heard Gimli announce. I turned to see Gimli on the edge of the steps, and Legolas pulling him up by his beard, “Not the beard!” Gimli yelled.

I snickered a bit through the pain. Though it was inconvenient, the pain distracted me from the urges of the darkness. A loud crack came from the other side of the staircase. Aragorn and Frodo now stood alone and an even larger chunk of the stairs had fallen. A rock fell from the ceiling and broke away a part of the staircase behind them.

“Steady! Hold on!” Aragorn held on to Frodo as the stairs began to wobble.

I held my breath.

“Lean forward!” Aragorn yelled.

The stairs tilted forward, “Come on!” Legolas held out his arms.

The stairs slammed into each other. Aragorn and Frodo went flying into the arms of Legolas and Boromir. Legolas turned to me immediately and pulled me with him. We ran down the remaining flights of stairs.

“Over the Bridge! Fly!” Gandalf directed us past him, Legolas and me last. I began to feel weak again as we crossed over the bridge. Legolas pulled me along nonetheless. He shoved me towards the group when we reached the other side.

Mithrandir was standing there, facing a great creature of fire and shadow. My mind went blank, all I could feel were someone’s strong arms wrapped around me, stopping me from moving. I was being dragged backwards, all I could do was stare at the beast. Something shocked me from the trance: when I looked up Gandalf was on the edge of the broken bridge, barely hanging on.

“No!” I yelled, I struggled to pull forward, but the arms would not let me.

“Fly you fools!”

He fell.

I screamed and tried to lunge forward, but I was being pulled backwards out of the mines. Arrows began striking the walls near my head. I stopped struggling and ran outside to safety. I followed the person – Aragorn – out of the mines.

Once we were outside, I collapsed onto the ground. I sat alone silently, with my head between my knees. I felt nothing. We would never make it without Gandalf.

“Legolas! Get them up!” Aragorn demanded.

He placed his hand on the back of my head and silently stroked my hair. I looked up, Legolas was crouched beside me, his blue eyes filled with tears but none fell. Upon seeing my blank face, he recoiled.

I rubbed my face, trying to understand what I was feeling.

Legolas brushed the hair from my face.

“Legolas! Get them up,” Aragorn yelled.

“Give them a moment, for pities sake!” Boromir yelled.

“By nightfall this hills will be swarming with orcs! We must reach the woods of Lothlórien. Come, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, get them up!” Aragorn replied.

Legolas pulled away a little, “We need to get that wound bandaged.”

I ripped a long piece of my shirt and handed it to him. Unfortunately, my shirt was not as long as it could be, and ripping off that part of the fabric partially exposed my stomach and did not cover my rear, as was expected of ellin when wearing trousers. Legolas glanced at the exposed skin before he began tying the fabric around my thigh. Before he had even finished tying it, the blood had already soaked through. I reached to rip more of my shirt. He grabbed my hands to stop me. He grabbed his spare shirt from his pack, and before I could refuse, he wrapped it around the other fabric tightly.

“Tell me if you start feeling weak,” He whispered.

He helped me to my feet and pulled me along with the others.

*          *          *

 

 

_I’ll probably add another chapter in here eventually. Slow it down with the wolf attack before the Journey in the Dark. I’ve been thinking about adding more things from the book._

 

 

 


	8. Lothlórien

It had only taken us a few hours to reach the woods of Lothlórien. Halfway there I had begun feeling weak from the blood loss. Boromir was forced to carry me on his back. Legolas stayed close to us, insisting on watching me the entire way there. I was growing tired of his constant sense of duty to protect me because I was a woman, but no matter where I went he would stick close to me.

The Company walked into the woods slowly. The familiar golden leaves of the mallorn trees moved in gently waves, some falling to the ground in a gentle dance. It would not take long for the guard to find us.

“Stay close young hobbits.” Gimli grabbed Frodo's arm, “They say there's a great sorceress lives in these woods. An Elf-witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell.”

Frodo looked around confusedly. Galadriel was speaking to him.

_It has been a long time, Rávawendë._

“Yes, it has,” I whispered in response to Galadriel's voice in my head.

Boromir turned his head to me with an odd look. Legolas watched me curiously.

“Well! Here's one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily! I have the eyes of a hawk, and ears of a fox!” He laughed heartily and turned to see an arrow pointed at his nose.

I tightened my grip on Boromir as the guard dropped from the trees. Nearly twenty elves surrounded us, all pointing their arrows at the Fellowship.

“The dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark.” Haldir stepped forward.

He recognized Legolas. “ _Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion_ ,” (Welcome Legolas, son of Thranduil) he spoke to the elf in front of me.

“ _Govannas vîn gwennen le, Haldir o Lórien_ ,” (Our Fellowship stands in your debt, Haldir of Lórien) Legolas said, he bowed slightly in respect.

Haldir turned to Aragorn, “ _A, Aragorn in Dúnedain istannen le ammen._ ” (Oh, Aragorn of the Dúnedain, you are known to us)

“Haldir,” Aragorn bowed.

“So much for the legendary courtesy of the Elves! Speak words we can also understand!” Gimli interrupted.

“We have not had dealings with the dwarves, since the dark days.” Haldir glared at Gimli.

“And do you know what this Dwarf says to that? _Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul_!” (I spit upon your grave)

Haldir spared a glare towards Gimli and looked past Legolas.

He gasped when he noticed me. “I apologize, my lady, I did not recognize you.” He bowed.

“Do not apologize. I have been missing for many years.”

“Lady Galadriel said you would be coming soon. I did not know that you would be in the company of others.” He stood to face me. “Are you injured?” he asked, watching Boromir suspiciously.

I nodded wearily. It had become a lot harder to hold myself up. Several elves helped me from Boromir’s back and inspected my wound.

Haldir froze suddenly and turned to the halflings. “You bring great evil with you.” Haldir looked at Frodo. “You can go no further!”

Legolas looked at me inquisitively. Haldir and Aragorn walked further away from the group and spoke to each other quietly.

“How do you know Haldir?” Legolas asked quietly, a concerned look on his face.

“Your father truly did not tell you who my family is?”

He shook his head.

Haldir interrupted us, “You will come with me.”

We walked through the mallorn trees, up steps towards Celeborn's chamber. It was the first time I had been here in hundreds of years. I felt the gazes of curious guardsmen and elves follow me through the path, they recognized me. I could feel their fear, and the astonishment of some. The city glowed silver in the moonlight.

The sun had set when we stepped in Celeborn's chamber, the fellowship stood at the bottom of the steps. Bright, cold light bathed the Company; the hobbits stared in awe as Galadriel descended the stairs. Aragorn and Legolas bowed in respect.

Galadriel smiled at me. “Rávawendë, I am glad you have returned to your family.”

“I would have returned sooner. All ties between us are broken – my father is dead and my grandfather, your brother, is also dead. I did not believe I would be welcomed as family,” I whispered, bowing my head slightly, “for I was also believed to be dead.”

The fellowship – all but Aragorn – looked between us in shock.

Celeborn glared at me before speaking, “Eight there are, yet nine there were set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf, for I much desire to speak with him.” His face was grave yet beautiful, and he always spoke with authority.

I closed my eyes and grimaced.

I could feel Galadriel's eyes on me “He has fallen into shadow...”

I furrowed my brows, the same odd feeling coming over me again. Legolas placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “He was taken by both Shadow and flame: A Balrog of Morgoth, for we went needlessly into the net of Moria.” I placed my hand over his as he said this.

“Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. We do not yet know his full purpose.” She looked to Gimli. “Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-dûm fill your heart, Gimli, son of Glóin. For the world has grown full of peril. And in all lands love is now mingled with grief.”

 

“What now becomes of this Fellowship? Without Gandalf, hope is lost.” Celeborn looked to his wife.

“The Quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains while the company is true.” She looked to Sam. “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Galadriel's eyes turn to Frodo. Tonight you will sleep in peace.”

Celeborn spoke to me now. “We will speak later, first you must go to a healer,” He gestured for me to follow a guard.

*          *          *

I returned to the group hours later, after bathing and receiving proper treatment of my wound. They sat in the shimmering moonlight around a fountain. Lanterns of pure, white light hung around the area, bathing them all in blue glow.

There were two tents, one large one where all the hobbits were sleeping and a smaller one for me. I had refused Galadriel's offer of sleeping in my old chambers. I knew I would have to suffer the constant fear of the staff. A buffet of wine and foods was laid out for us.

I strolled into the camp area smiling. My white dress trailed behind me. Galadriel had given me one of her many dresses. The satin material clung to my body down to my hips, where silver gems formed a V. The material scooped low on my chest. As I walked, the lace of the sleeves trailed behind me. My hair had been brushed out; it hung low in gentle white curls down to the middle of my back.

“Rhava?” Pippin asked. I turned to him. He took a bite of the apple in his hand, “You look like a princess!”

“She is one Pip,” Merry nudged him.

“You are?” He looked up at me with big eyes.

I smiled at them. “I was once.”

I sat next to them, hoping their childlike mannerisms would cheer me up.

“I've heard that all elven names have a special meaning,” Merry looked up at me.

“Yes they do, Legolas means green leaf in Sindarin.”

“What does your name mean?” Pippin asked.

“Ráva means wild in Quenya,” I answered. “Rhava is the shortened Sindarin version of my name.”

“It suits you,” he said smiling. I smiled and ruffled his hair.

“I didn't know that you are the niece of Galadriel,” Boromir stood next to me.

“Not many people do,” I answered. “She is the sister of my grandfather.”

“How old are you, Rhava?” Pippin asked. Merry elbowed him in the side.

“Older than you could imagine.” I laughed.

“I would like to apologize for my father locking you in our dungeons. If we had known –”

“Then it would be known that a princess was serving as a common whore,” I whispered so only he could hear.

The female servants around the buffet table whispered to each other upon hearing that I am the niece of Galadriel, occasionally looking or pointing to me. Legolas walked up to the table and they immediately went silent and watched the prince with wide eyes. He filled two glasses with red wine. He nodded at the two servants before he left. They immediately erupted into giggles. He walked to me, voices floated down from the trees, sad but beautiful melodies.

He looked up, “A lament for Gandalf.”

“What do they say about him?” Merry asked.

“I have not the heart to tell you. For me the grief is still too near.” His blue eyes filled with sadness. He handed me the glass of wine with a sad smile. The servants began whispering and pointing at us.

“I bet they don’t mention his fireworks. There should be a verse about them.” Sam stood, “The finest rockets ever seen. They burst in stars of blue and green. Or after thunder, silver shower. Came falling like a rain of flowers. Ah, that doesn't do them justice.” He sat with a thump.

Legolas turned to me, “Who is your father, Rhava?”

“He was the King of Nargothrond; father of Rávawendë, Finduilas, and the last High King of the Ñoldor, Gil-Galad.”

He choked on the wine he was sipping. “You’re the heir to the throne of the Ñoldor?”

“The title is only passed on through the men,” I stated awkwardly.

“I should have realized you were of the House of Finarfin, you look like your aunt.”

I laughed, “Me? She is known to be the fairest elf in all of Middle-Earth.”

“I disagree,” He whispered.

Haldir walked into the clearing before I could respond, “Would you like to go on a walk with me?”

I smiled. “I would be more than happy.” I walked to his side.

*          *          *

 

_Legolas_

I watched her walk away. He placed his hand low on her back. I grimaced and angrily walked to my bed and fell in a heap after gulping down my wine. I had chosen the spot nearest to Rhava’s – or Rávawendë’s – tent.

I leaned against the root of the great tree we were to sleep under. Gimli was snoring again and Aragorn was staring at me curiously.

“Why do you not tell her you have feelings for her?”

I looked at him in surprise.

“I have known you a long time, my friend.”

 “She does not feel that way about me.”

“She does not feel that way about anyone. I do not think she even realizes her own beauty.” He whispered.

“How could she not? The hobbits eyes are always on her. Boromir's eyes are always on her body. Haldir clearly is in love with her. Even my father acts differently around her.” I rubbed my hands across my face.

“She thinks of Haldir as no more than a friend, I can see it on her face.”

I rolled over in my bed, facing away from him, ending the conversation. I closed my eyes and slowly drifted into a restless sleep.

 

I awoke several hours later to loud, bear-like noises. I grabbed my bow from the side of my bed and loaded it. I looked to the sound: Gimli was snoring loudly. I grimaced and stepped back out into the open, searching through the food on a table for a snack to keep myself occupied. I had gotten most of the sleep I had needed for the night already anyways.

I was looking up at the night stars when she left her tent. Her white hair glowed silver underneath the lights. She was dressed in a pale blue nightgown. It was sleeveless, and the fabric draped over her body loosely. I blushed and looked away.

Her eyes widened when she saw me, “I didn't think anyone would be awake,” Rávawendë whispered, “I came out to get more wine.”

I turned to the table near me, two empty pitchers of wine sat on the table, we had only finished one at dinner. It was far too strong for the hobbits and men, but they had each managed to finish a quarter of a glass, nonetheless. I picked up the last pitcher and walked to her.

“That wine is very potent,” I scanned her face. Upon being this close, I could see the streaks of tears across her face and her swollen eyes.

“What's wrong?” I wiped away one of the tears with my thumb.

“Nothing,” She flinched from my touch, took the pitcher from my hands, and went back into her tent.

I followed her. She had already gulped down another glass when I entered her tent. She sat on her bed in near darkness; the only light was a burning candle sitting on the bedside table.

“Rávawendë, you’re upset,” I took the glass from her hand and laid it on the table. I sat next to her on the bed. “Tell me what's wrong.”

“I spoke with Galadriel,” Her words were slightly slurred.

I held her hand in mine, urging her to continue.

“She says the darkness will consume me. If the ring is not destroyed, I will fall and fight for Sauron,” she paused. Tears were trickling down her face, but her eyebrows were furrowed together – even now she could not understand her own sadness. “There’s something inside me, Legolas. I’m supposed to be dead. Now that Gandalf is gone–”

“I do not understand,” I whispered.

“You know that I was to marry your father?” She refused to look at me.

“Yes,” I whispered calmly, remembering the warnings that my father had given me. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. “Now, why are saying that you’re supposed to be dead?”

“I died.” She whispered. “I remember everything about it. She was this black figure – almost like smoke – and She grabbed me. It burned. I remember seeing my brother – he saw me too – He had him by the throat. Gil-Galad’s skin was burning.”

Even upon hearing her confession I did not fear her, I could not when she was in this state; although, I did not fully understand it at this point.

I brushed her white hair behind her ear and traced the point of it with my thumb. I pulled her into a hug. She shoved away from me and onto her feet. Her back faced me.

“I don't need you to treat me like a child, I can protect myself. Your chivalry is unnecessary.”

I stood, shocked by her sudden change in mood. I placed my hand on her back and faced her, “Do you really believe I protect you just because you're a woman?” I pulled her chin up with my fingers. “Earlier, when I said that I don't believe Galadriel is the fairest elf in Middle-Earth, it was because I believe that you are.”

Her face turned bright red. I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers gently. Her arms wound around my neck and she pulled me against her. I moved my hands to her waist. As the kiss became more heated, I slid my tongue across her bottom lip. She moaned against me, I bit her bottom lip lightly in response.

I gave in to my desire and pushed her onto the bed, still kissing her. Her hands shakily attempted to unbutton my jacket. I broke the kiss and yanked the jacket off. Her hands went up my undershirt. I pulled it off as well. She stroked the bulge in my pants. I gasped; she had nearly broken any self-control that I had left.

I lifted her back off the bed and roughly pulled her long nightgown over her head. She wore a sheer slip underneath. I laid her back on the bed and kissed her neck. She moaned and her nails dug into my back. I bit her neck roughly, making her moan louder. Her hands slipped down to my pants again, she fumbled with the laces, attempting to untie them.

I grabbed her hands, suddenly realizing how far she was going. “We can't,” I whispered, “You're drunk.”

She pulled me down for another kiss, moaning. It took every ounce of my self-control to stop. I slowed down the kisses. Her hand traveled down my erection, she rubbed it slowly. I gasped and moaned. I gently kissed her neck and shoulders. I allowed her to rub it for a little longer, relishing every touch before I stopped her hand.

“Legolas,” She whispered.

I rolled on my side next to her. “Please, Rávawendë. If we are going to do this, it needs to be when we are both sober.”

She pulled me in for another kiss, slower and sweeter this time. Both of her hands wrapped around my neck. I returned her kiss slowly and stroked her cheek.

“Go to sleep,” I whispered as I pulled her tight against my body.

She buried her face in my chest and sighed heavily. I kissed the top of her head and closed my eyes, allowing her presence to comfort me.


	9. The Breaking of the Fellowship

“Where is Legolas?” Aragorn's distant voice awoke me.

I looked down. Rhava was asleep on my bare chest.

“Rhava?” Aragorn was outside the tent now, “Are you awake?”

Rhava began to stir a little. Aragorn opened the flap on the tent; his eyes immediately met mine. She sat up slowly. Her gray eyes widened as she realized I the position we were in. She pulled the sheets around her body.

“We are leaving soon,” Aragorn said awkwardly before shutting the flap again.

Rhava stared at me in shock.

“We did not do anything,” I assured her, even though we were both still wearing clothes.

“Get out,” she whispered.

My heart plummeted. I tied my trousers and pulled on my shirt and shoes before walking out. I managed to avoid the sight of the others as I slipped out of the tent. I dressed quickly and followed the group to the borders of Lothlórien. Rhava stood at the back, as far away from me as she could.

Galadriel greeted us before we left, bearing a gift for each of us.

“My gift for you, Legolas, is a bow of the Galadhrim. Worthy of the skill of our woodland kin.” I looked in wonder at the bow, it was better than any bow I had handled before. The wood was carved with intricate patterns. I pulled back the string, feeling the heavy draw weight.

_Do not give up on her. Keep her safe. Make sure she does not lose her self-control._

Her words echoed through my mind. I looked up at her with shock and nodded, wondering how she had figured it out.

I watched as Haldir said goodbye to Rávawendë. He pulled her into a deep hug and kissed her on the cheek, she smiled at him. I cursed him silently.

“That Haldir is a lucky man,” Boromir had walked up to me while I was glaring at Haldir.

“Why do you say that?” I asked bitterly.

“She has a bite mark on her neck,” He pointed towards her, “What I would do to have a woman like that.”

I glared at him as he walked away. However, I did smirk when I noticed the bruise I had left on her neck.

*          *          *

 

_Rávawendë_

I kept my face hidden from Legolas as he took my hand and helped me down into the boat. I had been keeping my distance from Legolas since last night. I could not let myself get close to him. My destiny was almost certain now. The ring was driving me mad and I was slowly falling into the darkness. Legolas paddled the boat away from the dock. I watched as the trees of Lothlórien faded into the horizon.

 “I have taken my worst wound at this parting, having looked my last upon that which is fairest. Henceforth I will call nothing fair unless it be her gift to me.” Gimli said.

I laughed. “She has that effect on people.”

Galadriel’s beauty was of mind and soul. I had never seen a person leave unaffected by her or Celeborn.

“What was her gift?” Legolas asked.

“I asked her for one hair from her golden head. She gave me three.”

We stopped on a flat shore that night, pulling our boats up on the pebbly ground and creating a camp around a small fire. For sleep, I made a mat in the first covered area I found, sheltered by the rock face, which curved slowly upwards and created a hood above me – though it was probably the rockiest place I could have chosen. Boromir and Aragorn took watch that night.

As I was contemplating moving spots, Legolas laid out a mat of blankets next to me, though slightly above me on the ridge of a long, flat boulder, and sat on them. I probably would have chosen that spot had I been more observant. I attempted to ignore him, pretending to be asleep, though there was a huge rock digging into my back. I rolled over with a shiver, feeling the moisture of the boat ride seep through to my skin.

“Are you cold?” Legolas asked quietly.

“Yes,” I replied grumpily.

“I have never heard of an elf getting cold as easily as you.”

“I’m afraid I have become more man than elf,” I whispered. “My soul has been tainted.”

“You are not an evil person, Rávawendë,” he touched my shoulder lightly.

“Legolas, do you know how I survived in the world of men? I sold myself.” I said bluntly, rolling onto my stomach to get further away from him. Perhaps the easiest way to drive him away was to open myself to him.

“What do you mean?” He asked innocently.

I rolled back over to look at him. “Men would pay me to take off my clothes so they could do as they like to my body.”

The hand outreached to my shoulder balled in a fist as he pulled away in disgust. “And yet, you are not wed to any man?” he whispered sadly.

“I am more of a man than an elf,” I repeated. “I feel no love for any man I have bed with. Mostly, I feel nothing at all.”

He stared down at his hands. “Being with me last night was nothing to you, then?”

I rolled over without responding. Finally, I stood and hovered over him. He gave me a reticent look. “I’m cold.” I said bitterly. It discomfited me to see him so miserable.

“What?” He opened his eyes.

“I am cold. Make me warm,” I repeated.

He nodded anxiously and moved so I could lie next to him. I pulled my blankets over us and laid so that my back was facing him. He politely kept his distance. I reached back and jerked his arm forward so that it wrapped around my waist – though the warmth of the blankets on top of me was enough. I fell asleep in the warmth.

 

The morning sun had just risen and woken me with its bright glare, though the air was still bitter cold. I had rolled over in my sleep. My face was against Legolas’s chest and he was looking down at me curiously. Nobody else was awake.

I sat up, “We should get moving.”

He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back to him, suddenly kissing me hard. His tongue pushed past my lips. I attempted to hold back a moan – and failed. He ran his fingers through my hair and parted from me slowly. My mind was suddenly in a haze. I wanted nothing but to be closer to him – that was clear to me – though very unfamiliar.

“I will not make it easy for you to pull away from me,” he whispered gruffly as he stood.

My cheeks burned as I gathered my things and took them to the boat. The others began packing their things shortly after.

Legolas passed me as he jumped in the boat. “Did anyone see us last night?” I whispered.

“No,” he said as he took my hand and helped me into the boat. “I did not sleep last night.”

I sat at the front as he helped a grumbling Gimli in without tipping us over. We pushed off after the other two boats and began our last day on the water.

I allowed my thoughts to wander freely as we paddled down the river. I skimmed my fingers across the cool, shining water as I remembered the way Legolas touched me two nights before. My cheeks burned in the cool morning air. I touched my cold fingers to them curiously. It had been long since I had felt this way – nearly six thousand years, and it was never to such degree.

I looked back – Legolas was watching me inquisitively. My face burned harder as I twisted back around.

 

Another day passed until we stopped near Amon Hen. Legolas pulled the boat onto the rocky shore. He helped me and Gimli out and found company with Aragorn.

“We cross the lake at nightfall. Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north,” Aragorn announced.

I stood on the beach near Gimli, who decided to argue with the will of Aragorn, “Oh, yes? It’s just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil? An impassable labyrinth of razor-sharp rocks! And after that, it gets even better! Festering, stinking marshlands far as the eye can see.”

“That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf.”

“Recover my...?!” Gimli growled.

Legolas looked into the forest worriedly, “We should leave now.” He looked to Aragorn.

“No. Orcs patrol the eastern shore. We must wait for cover of darkness.”

“It is not the eastern shore that worries me. A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near. I can feel it.”

“Focus on something else,” Aragorn looked to me then Legolas, obviously sensing the tension.

Legolas stared at me pleadingly. I walked into the forest far enough that the group would not be able to hear. He followed me, as expected.

I turned to him. He pulled my hand up to his lips and tenderly kissed my fingertips. “I'm sorry for being rough with you,” he whispered against them.

“We can't, Legolas.” I contemplated telling him that I enjoyed rough, but I thought that we be inappropriate in this situation.

He held my hand. He would not look me in the eyes. “Why?” He whispered.

“The Ring is taking me, and even if I manage to avoid the ring. He can feel me; He is searching for me now. His eye is constantly moving. He wants me Legolas. He wants Her.”

He pulled me into a tight hug. “I will destroy the ring myself if I have to,” he whispered.

As we stood in a quiet embrace, we heard the grunts and footsteps of orcs in the distance. “Find the Halfling! Find the She-elf!” the gruff voice of an orc yelled in the distance.

“Run!” Legolas pushed me. He drew his bow and ran towards the voices.

I pulled up my hood and ran through the forest in a random direction, away from the source of the voice.

Merry and Pippin ran out from hiding in front of me, “Hey! Hey, you! Over here!”

“This way!” Pippin yelled.

 _Just my luck_. I ran in front of them.

“It's working!” Pip yelled.

“I know it’s working!” Merry replied.

We ran across a stone bridge. When I looked back, Merry and Pippin were standing defenseless as an orc ran to them with his ax. Before he could hit the hobbits, Boromir slammed into him and killed him with his sword. I jumped across the bridge and began stabbing at the oncoming orcs with my knives.

“The horn!” I yelled at Boromir. “Call the others!” He pulled the horn from his belt and blew several times.

I was managing to control myself, to battle without losing my senses. A large Uruk-hai walked over the hill.

“Knock her out! Take the she-elf!” He ordered.

The orcs focused their efforts of me now; I struggled harder to keep my senses. The Uruk drew his bow and fired at something. Boromir fell to his knees next to me.

I turned to him. “Boromir!”

A blunt object collided with the back of my head, making me slip painfully into darkness.


End file.
